


Restless

by Reminscees



Series: From Dusk Till Dawn [6]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal, Blow Jobs, Diplomacy, M/M, Politics, Riding, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reminscees/pseuds/Reminscees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England doesn’t kiss. </p><p>America doesn’t stay.</p><p>Not always.</p><p>Sometimes, they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restless

Restless

01.

 “When are you flying out?” Alfred smiled, tilting his head to grin crookedly as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, standing idly in the middle of Arthur’s Number Ten office, dark and cold and laced with deep hardwood furniture and aching walls.

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Arthur frowned as he dropped his papers on his desk.

“Is it Dresden?” Alfred asked.

“Classified.” Arthur repeated.

“When are you leaving?”

“Not for a while.” Arthur answered, inhaled sharply as he felt Alfred move towards him.

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Alfred tangled his hand in Arthur’s hair, forcing Arthur to still his movements.

Alfred sighed loudly.

“I wish you wouldn’t leave.” He repeated.

“That’s not quite your decision to make, America,” Arthur stared at the floor before slowly raising his gaze towards Alfred.

“Absolutely,” Alfred laughed, stepping closer to Arthur as he tangled his fingers in Arthur’s hair, “It’d be better if you wouldn’t leave.”

“Home affairs are frightfully boring, dearest,” Arthur smiled sharply, “One simply cannot have a good war at home.”

“Don’t I know it,” Alfred trailed his fingers up against Arthur’s palm and pulse, curling around his wrist, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“I suppose so,” Arthur tilted his chin and smiled slowly as Alfred grinned, rows of white teeth glistening in the evening sun.

“Hey,” Alfred mumbled as his eyes darted to Arthur’s lips, “Is that door locked?”

“Yes,” Arthur said, voice wavering. Arthur titled his head upwards as Alfred moved along his jaw and down his neck, breath hot and moist on his skin, eying the pale goose-bumps forming over the span of uneven freckles and scars, bruises and wounds dotted all over Arthur’s body.

“Good,” Alfred sighed as he tightened the hold on Arthur’s wrist.

“I need your boys to fly out with us soon,” Arthur said quietly, staring directly into Alfred’s eyes, “Churchill will bring it up at the next meeting.”

Alfred swallowed thickly, averting his eyes, filled with concern.

“Alfred,” Arthur said in a warning tone, “I need you to agree, alright?”

“Okay,” Alfred nodded hastily, “Yeah, okay. Anything you want,” He smiled, “I’ll give you anything you want, Arthur.”

Arthur smiled once more, viciously as he trailed his fingers along Alfred’s chest and shoulders, uniform fabric rough. He unbuckled Alfred’s belt and ran his fingers lightly over the front of his underwear before he tucked Alfred’s shirt out with a certain elegant efficiency that made Alfred bite his lip to suppress a loud groan.

Alfred pulled at Arthur’s hair as Arthur dropped to his knees and pulled at his trousers, brushing his thumbs over his thighs before ghosting his lips over the head of Alfred’s erect cock. His mouth and breath were moist and warm, tongue heavy as it dragged along the underside of the shaft. Alfred moaned lowly in his throat, and Arthur closed his eyes, eyelashes not fluttering as he did so. His tongue lapped at the skin, hot and wet, as Alfred tugged once more at his hair. With a strong resonance, Arthur licked his lips and moved to inch Alfred’s cock inside his throat, slowly, steadying Alfred’s jutting and trembling knees with his hands, fingers imprinting bruises onto Alfred’s skin with the force.

Alfred threw his head back as he arched towards Arthur, mouth gaping open and baring his throat, pushing Arthur’s head further down with his hands. Arthur choked, though Alfred’s loud, hoarse, appreciative moan silenced him as Arthur slid his mouth and moved, saliva spilling down in droplets from his lips, rolling down onto his throat.

Alfred inhaled sharply and looked down towards him, mouth lax and panting, groaning loudly as moved his hand to cup Arthur’s cheek, thumb scraping along his cheekbone. Arthur opened his eyes, quickly, as though he was horrified by the motion, and for a brief moment, he locked eyes with Alfred, blue eyes hooded and cold in the dim light.

Alfred’s gaze felt as though he was trying to reach something, as though if he could just stretch his arms out further, just run faster, he could hold Arthur, merely hold him-

Arthur choked as he felt Alfred spill his load in his mouth. Coughing, he pulled back and spat on the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust.

“You should warn me next time,” Arthur scolded as he stood.

Alfred nodded weakly, chest heaving as he fixed his clothing and brushed a hand through his hair. He closed and opened his mouth multiple times, stammering. Frowning, he averted his eyes and pushed his glasses up.

Arthur turned away and ran a hand through his hair.

“You should leave.” Arthur said.

“I should.” Alfred replied after a pause, words tasting unfamiliar on his tongue.

Arthur skimmed through some files on his desk, papers falling through his fingers with ease. Alfred closed his eyes.

“I should leave,” Alfred repeated, “I really should.” He said once more, voice quiet and hoarse.

He did not move.

Arthur slammed the papers down on the desk. The sound echoed in the room.

Arthur jolted towards him, reaching out and grabbing hold of the fur collar on Alfred’s bomber jacket. He exhaled loudly through his nose. Alfred slowly raised a hand to place it on top of Arthur’s whitening knuckles.

With bruising force, Alfred pressed his lips against Arthur’s. His lips were soft, yet chapped.

Arthur gasped and wrenched himself free of Alfred’s grip.

“Fucking,” Arthur growled, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Alfred smiled sweetly and reached towards Arthur once more, who recoiled at the motion.

“Stop it with your stupid ideas of romance,” Arthur sneered, “It’s unbecoming.”

“Who cares?” Alfred laughed, “Do you think this’ll go on after the war? Listen, Hitler’s gotta die sometime, England, it’s either him or you, and I bet-”

“You are,” He heaved, “You are the dirtiest fucking brat that I have ever encountered. Fuck off.”

Alfred laughed hollowly, sound echoing in the room, ignoring the pull on his heart and chest and stomach at Arthur’s words.

“I’m really dirty,” Alfred said loudly, “You know how dirty I can be.”

Arthur froze.

Alfred slid a hand over Arthur’s wrist, fingers curling over the pale skin, pulse fluttering wildly.

“You love it,” He hushed, “You fucking love it, you son of a-”

Arthur punched Alfred, knuckles pressing against his jaw and cheek with elegant precision.

Rubbing the bruise, Alfred stepped back towards the door. He smiled coyly.

“If you leave me,” Alfred said slowly, hand grasping the door-handle, “I’ll kill you.”

Alfred laughed and slammed the door.

The lights flickered.

It was dark.

 “Bloody Germans.” Arthur said loudly.

 

02.

Alfred’s fingers were shaking as he stripped Arthur’s clothing, dropping his shirt and uniform to the floor as he thumbed at Arthur’s hipbones and bit at his neck.

Alfred pushed him onto the mattress, arching towards him as Arthur pushed Alfred’s jacket off. Alfred climbed away, briefly, throwing his trousers carelessly behind him as he settled over him, thumbing at Arthur’s thighs.

Arthur hissed.

Alfred retracted, staring down at him with confusion.

“That...” He stammered, “That isn’t really... Wait,” Arthur commanded as he pulled Alfred down on the mattress, settling over him. He rested his weight on Alfred’s lap.

Alfred frowned.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Perfectly,” Arthur lied, grinning wickedly as he bit behind Alfred’s ear, “What do you want me to do?” He said lowly, murmuring into Alfred’s ear as he trailed a hand down Alfred’s scarred chest. Alfred hitched his breath, audibly.

“Do you want to finger me open?” Arthur whispered, “Get your fingers all nice and slick and push them into me?” Arthur’s voice was deep and husky, breath warm and hot on Alfred’s ear, blushing madly and gasping as Arthur wrapped his fingers around Alfred’s cock, not moving yet. Arthur laughed lowly as Alfred shot his arm out and fumbled around in a drawer for a long moment as Arthur trailed his fingers over Alfred’s chest, drawing nonsense patterns over his pectorals and the large scar over his heart.

Arthur hissed at Alfred’s neck as Alfred wrapped his fingers around Alfred’s wrist, drawing him closer and shifting, resting his forehead against Alfred, eyes staring deep into Arthur’s own as Alfred’s index finger breached the tight ring of muscle. Arthur gasped and fluttered his eyes closer, breath hot on Alfred’s lips. Alfred removed the hand on his wrist and firmly buried his fingers in Arthur’s hair, drawing him closer and pulling, slightly, forcing Arthur eyes to open and look down at Alfred.

Alfred slid a second finger inside, slowly, and Arthur hitched his breath.

Alfred’s eyes did not leave Arthur’s face.

“What do you want?” Arthur smiled dirtily, speaking breathlessly, “Tell me.”

Alfred stared up at Arthur with confusion.

“Come on,” Arthur laughed, “It’s merely a few little words, Alfred, you can do it.”

Alfred let his fingers tangle into Arthur’s hair, loosening the grip as he pulled Arthur down.

He kissed him, softly, chastely, even, his bottom lip lingering a split second longer. Arthur widened his eyes and frowned. He exhaled a shaky breath as Alfred licked his lips.

“Okay,” Arthur said hoarsely, “Shall I tell you what I want?”

“I want you to fuck me, Alfred,” Arthur continued quickly, voice desperate, “I want you to take out your fingers and stick your cock straight in,” He bit against Alfred’s neck and collarbone, harshly,  “I want you to fuck me deeply,” He licked over the skin, “Hard,” Arthur stroked Alfred roughly, “ _Fast_ ,” He reached behind him and pulled out Alfred’s fingers, “So fast I forget everything but your name.” Arthur breathed hotly in Alfred’s ear.

Arthur hitched his leg to firmly rest against Alfred’s thigh and hip bone. He pushed the head of Alfred’s cock against his opening, not quite slick enough and not quite wide enough.

Alfred hitched his breath.

_Good-_

Arthur was in control once more.

Arthur moaned loudly against Alfred’s jaw as he pushed in, agonisingly slow. Alfred was shaking. He gasped. Arthur laughed desperately as he began to move, up and down, roughly.  Alfred spilled loud groans and moans from his open mouth, head tilted back, eyes closed, his fingernails digging into Arthur’s scalp and neck and hip, hands and fingers simply everywhere, leaving marks and traces of himself on Arthur’s body.

Arthur slammed his hips down and Alfred’s eyes flew open, back arching upwards, a strangled cry resulting as his fingers dug further into Arthur’s skin, painfully so.

Arthur was silent as white, hot heat shot up through Arthur, down his thighs and legs.

Arthur frowned as he moved away, chest rising and falling fast. Alfred’s heart hammered against his rib cage as he ran his shaking hands over his sweating face.

“God,” Alfred sobbed, “This wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“How was it supposed to be?” Arthur asked lowly as Alfred sat up and dressed, slowly.

“I don’t know,” He said after a pause, “Different.”

Arthur huffed in amusement.

“I’ve got to leave tonight,” Alfred clarified, shrugging on his jacket.

“I know.” Arthur’s words were heavy.

Alfred nodded slowly.

He turned and left.

Arthur was alone.

Sirens blared in the silence.

Arthur sighed in defeat as the sky turned white in flashes.

 

03.

Arthur pushed Alfred inside the car forcefully as Alfred trailed his fingers around the back of Arthur’s neck.

He kept his fingers there now, too, as Arthur took the head of Alfred’s cock into his mouth, leaning his back against Arthur’s kitchen counter.

Alfred gasped, loudly, roughly, and his hand pulled at the back of Arthur’s neck. Alfred titled his head, slightly, taking in more. Alfred bit one of his knuckles as he stared down to Arthur, watching him bob his head and suck Alfred’s cock with obscene, wet sounds.

Their eyes locked, for a moment, and Alfred tensed, shouting as he released himself into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur slowly withdrew, his lips wet and shining red. He stood, aching muscles and bones, and moved over to the kitchen sink and spat Alfred’s load with a sound of disgust into it as Alfred panted and ran a hand through his hair.

“We used to do this.” Alfred said after a moment.

 Arthur shifted towards him. He struck out an arm and searched for a cigarette in Alfred’s jacket pocket, brushing Alfred’s ribs and chests. He felt Alfred’s muscles contract as Alfred wrapped his fingers around Arthur’s own and took out the pack and a lighter from the other.

“During the last war.” Alfred drawled, “You were just skin and bones back then.”

Alfred lit Arthur’s cigarette.

“Hm,” Arthur hummed appreciatively, brushing his fringe back, wet and slick from sweat, “I suppose so.”

Alfred pulled Arthur closer, settling him in between his legs, hands on either side of Arthur’s thighs and hips.

Arthur rested a hand beneath his elbow and smoked his cigarette, frowning. Alfred smiled lopsidedly, glasses askew, as he traced patterns on Arthur’s hip, skin hot and wet.

“You’re getting kinda muscular,” Alfred laughed, “It’s weird.”

Arthur snorted.

“War is a good workout,” Alfred smiled, “Maybe that’s why I’m so buff.”

“You’re getting fat,” Arthur said, “You should bring some food with you when you visit.”

Alfred smiled sadly. “Yeah,” He hushed, “Okay. I can do that.” Alfred whispered as he shifted closer to Arthur, “Anything you want, Arthur,” He said, “I’d buy you the world.”

“I wouldn’t let you.” Arthur snorted.

“I know,” Alfred replied, solemnly, “That’s why I didn’t.”

His fingers spread flatly over Arthur’s pelvis as he leaned down, lips hovering over Arthur’s as Arthur blew out smoke before he pressed against him, tongue moving clumsily and messily.

Alfred pulled back, quickly.

He looked simultaneously more and less confused about anything and everything.

Perhaps he did not know why he was here.

“Huh,” Alfred mumbled. He pressed his body against Arthur’s.

Arthur blinked once or twice, finishing the cigarette before lazily extinguishing it and letting Alfred trail his fingers over his skin, feeling the steady beat of Alfred’s heart against his chest.

He fell asleep such like that, later that night.

Alfred stayed.

Arthur awoke alone.

Blindly, he stirred, tapping into his kitchen and eying a note, scrawled in messy ink.

Arthur ignored it and sighed.

He crumbled the note and threw it in the waste-bin before opening the window, a warm breeze coming in, hot and heavy from the dense city. Arthur pushed back his fringe as he turned and put the kettle on and switched the radio on.

_‘Good morning. This is the BBC morning forecast. Reports say it will be the hottest day this year, with winds from the east bringing warm-’_

Arthur shut the radio off.

 

04.

Arthur let Alfred inside his apartment silently. Alfred stared at him as Arthur stood numbly in the centre of his kitchen.

Arthur folded his arms.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked.

Alfred shrugged.

Arthur exhaled sharply, jutting his chin up at Alfred as he stared.

“America,” Arthur warned, “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Alfred said, “Do I need a reason to be here?”

“Yes,” Arthur said quickly.

“Oh,” Alfred said hoarsely, “Okay.”

Alfred ran a hand through his hair.

“See, I,” Alfred stammered, “I know that you... Fuck it.” Alfred jolted towards Arthur, clutching either side of his face as Arthur arched backwards. Alfred pressed his lips against Arthur’s, chastely, pulling away quickly.

Arthur blinked at him.

“Why did you do that?” He asked hoarsely.

“I wanted to,” Alfred replied, “I just wanted to.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Arthur laughed shortly, rummaging inside his kitchen drawer to locate a package of cigarettes, “I’m not a girl.”

“I know you’re not.” Alfred said, frowning as Arthur placed a cigarette between his lips and searched for a lighter, “I’m not stupid.”

Alfred watched Arthur try and create a flame.

His hands were shaking.

Alfred reached out and steadied Arthur’s hand, pressing his palm against Arthur’s lean and long fingers, trembling. Arthur stared up at him, slowly.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, clenching his jaw.

Alfred swallowed thickly, stared down to Arthur before letting out a sound close to a sob, desperate and raw, and pulling Arthur closer to him, forcefully, burying his head into Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur dropped the cigarette.

He closed his eyes, slowly and painfully, eyes stinging behind closed lids as he heard Alfred’s broken shout. Arthur drew his eyebrows together, biting his lips as he felt Alfred pull away and grab Arthur’s face, a palm on either side, holding him tightly, almost bruising his skin, Arthur thought, and leaning his forehead against Arthur’s, staring into his eyes, breath shaking over Arthur’s lips.

“I... I don’t know why I’m here.” Alfred admitted.

“In general or in my flat?” Arthur asked sharply.

“Both,” Alfred smiled, scratching at his hairline, “It’s just... Maybe I missed... Maybe I missed you,” Alfred whispered, “Is that dumb?”

Arthur reached up, curling his fingers tightly in Alfred’s hair as he watched him lick his lips, nervously.

“No,” Arthur said, “It’s not.”

He opened his eyes, slowly, and Alfred exhaled a desperate, shaking breath before pulling Arthur into a bruising kiss, no finesse or romance. Arthur wrapped his other arm around Alfred’s neck, keeping him close, sighing into the kiss. Alfred’s lips were hot against his, chapped, too, slick and wet, demanding, pushing the insides of his lips against his teeth. Arthur darted his tongue forward, and met Alfred’s, pushing against him, fingers clawing at Alfred’s shoulders as he felt Alfred tighten his hold on his face. Arthur breathed into him, falling towards him, as he massaged their tongues together, moulding their lips closer with bruising force.

Alfred drew away, slowly, lips slick with spit and flushed as he mouthed and kissed down Arthur’s jaw and neck. Alfred pushed him against the kitchen counter behind them, shining and stained, stumbling slightly with the vigour of his quick steps, lips still trailing across Arthur’s neck. Arthur fell against the counter, sitting on the edge and wrapping his legs, lean yet strong.

It was silent.

Arthur tilted his head, baring his throat to him and parting his lips as he sighed, quietly, closing his eyes and clawing once again at Alfred’s shoulder and tangling a hand in his hair, digging his nails into his scalp as Alfred bit into the pale skin of Arthur’s neck, clean as marble. Alfred trailed a hand up and down Arthur’s back, along the dips of his spine, along the scars and the gaping wound in the middle of his shoulder blades, and over Arthur’s thighs, thumbing in the inside of them, feeling Arthur’s muscles twitch with the motion. Alfred smiled against his skin as he felt Arthur tip his head back.

“Hey,” Alfred breathed hotly, lips trailing up Arthur’s neck as he tangled a hand in the fine hairs on the back of Arthur’s head, “You can mark me, too.”

Arthur stilled as he watched Alfred pull away and smile at him, smugly, eyes trailed down to stare at his feet, almost oddly shyly.

“I’d like it,” Alfred continued, “It’s... It’s more than a memory, you know? Something to hold on. I think about it, when I’m flying. When I crashed,” Alfred bit his lip, “It was burning and hot and... I thought of you.”

Arthur exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Arthur moved towards him, carding a hand into Alfred’s hair, fingers gripping harshly as he pulled his head towards Arthur.

“Visible and tangible,” He muttered as he trailed his lips over the tan skin, damp with sweat. He smelt of coffee and sweet, Arthur thought as his teeth pinched the skin. Alfred twitched and Arthur smiled sharply as he licked over it before biting once more. Arthur dragged his nails down the back of Alfred’s scalp and neck, down to his shoulders, grinning viciously as he heard Alfred moan harder and jut up towards him. Arthur pulled him closer, thighs tightening around Alfred’s hips.

“God,” Arthur breathed as Alfred threw his bomber jacket on the floor and pulled off his shirt.

Alfred inhaled sharply and audibly.

Alfred groaned roughly, though blushing as he pulled at Arthur’s thin shirt collar, hard enough to force Arthur forward. Arthur smiled sharply, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back once more.

Alfred pulled off Arthur’s shirt, shuddering as Alfred trailed his fingers over the muscles, trembling underneath his hold. His fingers were rough against his ribs. Arthur stared at him, raising his fingers and gripping Alfred’s jaw, pulling his head up to frown at him. Alfred licked his lips.

He stared at the open, gaping wound buried underneath bandages on Arthur’s chest and sides.

“Do you... I... We’ll be okay,” Alfred said quickly, “We’ll be okay.”

“Yes,” Arthur replied, closing his eyes as he felt Alfred rest his head in the juncture of his shoulder, “We’ll be alright, Alfred.”

Arthur could feel Alfred’s chest rise and sink steadily as he drew pattern in his hair and over his back, breath hot on Arthur’s bare chest. Alfred nodded hastily before flashing Arthur a smile as he moved away, briefly, as he stripped off his own shirt and trousers, even his socks, dropping them lazily to the floor. Alfred moved back with a broad smile, settling in between Arthur’s legs once more as he pulled Arthur’s own trousers down, licking over his neck and shoulders. Arthur clenched his fingers over Alfred’s bare shoulders, fingers leaving small marks. 

Alfred’s breath was smothering, panting over Arthur’s neck as Arthur gasped, exaggerated a little, perhaps, for Alfred’s favour.

Alfred’s hips fit against Arthur’s ass, and Arthur heard his breath catch, holding onto his hair once more. Alfred’s glasses were tilted wildly on his face, and Arthur snatched them, placing them carefully behind him on the counter.

Arthur wasn’t breathing anymore when he felt Alfred begin to rock his hips up towards him. Arthur grasped onto his hair, tugging violently and arching up against Alfred’s body, feeling broad palms stroke his thighs, carefully, as though Arthur were asleep.

Arthur closed his eyes, tightly, as his face was flushed against the skin of Alfred’s shoulder.

“We should,” Arthur gasped, “Bed.”

“We should go to the bed.” He elaborated, lips parted as he felt his chest heave.

Alfred nodded hastily and pulled away. Arthur’s skin felt cold as Alfred retreated his fingers, lingering only slightly, before Arthur jumped off the counter in a swift motion, tugging at Alfred’s wrist and pulling him to his bedroom.

Alfred’s legs were weak as he stumbled onto the mattress of Arthur’s bed, pulling Arthur on top of him, feeling him arching up towards him as he kissed him once more, hard, lips dragging over his own, more tongue and teeth than romantic breaths.

Alfred broke free to pull Arthur’s trousers off, with a certain hesitant that made Arthur smile shyly, throwing them to the floor as he crawled back over Arthur, eying his cock through Alfred’s underwear.

Suddenly, Alfred slowed down, the hands on Arthur’s ribs and chest stopping. Arthur blinked away disorientation, breath hitching as he felt Alfred slowly straighten, chest shining and strong above Arthur as he slipped his fingers down to Arthur’s calves, stroking along the skin and across the muscles of Arthur’s legs, before settling in between them. Arthur hooked his legs around his waist as Alfred rested his forehead against Arthur’s own, breath heaving.

“Is this,” He asked, hesitating and blushing, “Is this okay?”

“What?” Arthur sat up, “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Alfred bit his lip and lowered his head, fringe falling into his eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said slowly, “And... It’s just... Last time, you... You didn’t... You didn’t look at me.”

Arthur closed his eyes slowly.

“You’re so,” Alfred continued, failing to form coherent sentences, “I’m... Just... I don’t...”

Arthur drew his eyebrows together in confusion.

“I don’t want to leave you.” Alfred admitted, voice wavering.

Arthur grabbed either side of Alfred’s face, harshly, forcing Alfred to stare at him, eyes a mix of confusion and surprise.

“That’s not... That’s not why...” He said, swallowing thickly, mouth dry.

“Alfred,” He continued, “You’re very... You’re very lovely to look at.”

He heard Alfred’s breath hitch.

“I love to look at you.” Arthur said as he trailed his lips over the shell of Alfred’s ear, bright red, hands trailing down to grip at Alfred’s shoulders and neck. Alfred gripped at the sheets of Arthur’s bed. His knuckles were white.

Alfred pushed his hips against his and he moaned, loudly, arching up before Alfred pinned him down against the mattress once more, body flush and heavy over Arthur’s own. He could feel Alfred’s breath over his chest, his collarbone, his neck, imprinting every inch of his skin as Alfred drawled his hands over Arthur’s sides, moaning quietly once more against Arthur’s lips, eyes open and staring into Arthur’s own. His pupils were dark, blue almost entirely swallowed.

Alfred trailed his lips over Arthur’s own, and Arthur mouthed broken vowels and consonants over them, breath hot and moist. Alfred swore softly, breathless as it fell into Arthur’s mouth, and Alfred groaned as he felt Arthur wrap his legs, firmly, around Alfred’s waist, pushing his hips up.

It was everything-

It wasn’t enough.

Not even with Arthur beneath him, everywhere, giving him that sly, sharp smile that made Alfred breathless each time, it wasn’t enough.

Arthur seemed to feel the same way, as he whispered roughly against his lips, “I-We should-”

 “Can... Can I?” Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded hastily, and Alfred quickly pulled away, though not before kissing Arthur, chastely on the cheek. Arthur scoffed, letting his head fall as he observed Alfred stretch to Arthur’s bedside table. He scrambled around, letting some books and papers fall to the floor before settling himself in between Arthur’s thighs once more.

For lack of anything better to do, in a rush of self-confidence, too, perhaps, Arthur kissed the side of Alfred throat, licking and biting at the dampening skin. Alfred’s cheek pressed against his for a moment, jaw rough with stubble, and Arthur pulled away to let his head fall back against the mattress and pillow, looking up at Alfred, his forehead resting against Arthur’s own. Alfred smiled, slowly, and then all at once.

“I...” Arthur whispered, before trailing off and fluttering his eyes closed as Alfred gripped his thighs.

“Yeah,” Alfred breathed, still smiling sweetly, a little lopsidedly, too, and entirely charming, “Okay.”

Alfred shifted until he slipped a finger inside of Arthur. He held onto Alfred’s hair as his toes curled and he moaned a long, breathless sound. Alfred moved slowly, almost too slowly, before stumbling blindly, his eyes were seared shut in an endearing concentration, and gripping Arthur’s hand, pinning it against the mattress.  Sweat dripped along the side of his forehead and travelled down his cheek and jaw, Arthur observed it lazily before gasping as Alfred moved his finger.

He tightened his hold on Alfred’s hand.

It squeezed back.

“Alfred,” Arthur said, hoarsely and quietly. The name felt strange, as though he had never spoken it before. Alfred nodded hastily, biting his lip in concentration as he slipped a second finger into Arthur, who dug his nails into Alfred’s scalp, squeezing Alfred’s hand tighter. Alfred hissed quietly and bit at the side of Arthur’s throat.

“Should- Should I-” Alfred asked quickly.

“Yes,” Arthur shuddered, looking up at Alfred, moaning in a breath, “God, yes.”

Alfred fit a third finger inside and Arthur closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and he swallowed a broken moan.

Alfred stilled his fingers, unsure, and Arthur quickly opened his eyes to stare up at him, eyebrows drawn together as he said, “Why did you stop?”

Alfred swallowed thickly, breath heaving.

“I was looking at you,” He said, “I only... I was just looking at you.”

“Looking at me?” Arthur asked hoarsely, voice breaking.

“Yeah,” Alfred blushed.

“Why?” Arthur asked after a pause.

“I... I...” Alfred stuttered, “I think you’re ...”

“Very nice to look at?” Arthur questioned.

“Yeah,” Alfred said, “More than nice.”

Arthur’s chest heaved with each breath, strained and painful through his mouth.

“I... That’s...” Arthur struggled.

“Yeah,” Alfred said, pulling his lips into a tight, white line. He blinked as he looked down to Arthur.

“The way you’re looking at me,” Arthur said slowly, “It makes me... It almost...”

He let a shuddering, raw noise escape his lips before raising a hand and gently letting it fall on Alfred’s cheek. Alfred closed his eyes, inhaling a shaky breath, before opening them slowly and squeezing Arthur’s hand once more. Arthur trailed a finger down Alfred’s jaw, following its path, eyes hooded, before looking into Alfred’s eyes once more and brushing his thumb along his cheek bone, skin moist and hot.

“You should,” Arthur heaved, “You should stay.”

Alfred swiped his thumb over Arthur’s, hand still pinned to the mattress, and nodded.

Alfred smiled at him.

Arthur exhaled a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and smiled back.

“Yeah,” Alfred said, “Yeah, okay.”

Alfred grinned crookedly before lifting Arthur, slightly, allowing him to wrap his thighs around his waist once more, securely. Arthur let his head fall, wrapping an arm around Alfred’s neck as he heard Alfred fiddle with a condom and hiss as he gripped Arthur’s hips. Arthur let a breath escape, dry and rough, as he looked up at Alfred through his fringe, sweat dripping down his neck and his hair a mess in front of his eyes, lathering himself.

“If I... If I told you I loved you...,” Alfred said, voice low and warm as he settled between Arthur’s legs, looking down at Arthur, “Would you believe me?”

Arthur toyed with the hairs on the back of Alfred’s neck, frowning.

“I don’t know.” He answered.

“Oh,” Alfred said, “Okay. That’s okay.”

He pushed into him, all at once, groaning a raw sound, rough and dry. Arthur’s lips parted and a ruined sound slipped from his throat.

“Hey,” Alfred whispered, “Promise me... We’ll get through this. I’ll figure this out.” Alfred fluttered his eyes closed, “I’ll figure _you_ out. I will.” The hold on Arthur’s hand tightened as Alfred breathed against Arthur’s lips, “I won’t leave until I do.”

Alfred gripped his hips tightly, and he suddenly stilled, breath coming in short, quick heaves on Arthur’s skin.

“I know,” Arthur said quietly, “I know you will, America.” He stroked Alfred’s cheek, “ _Alfred_ ,” He corrected himself.

Alfred laughed shortly before leaning down and kissing Arthur, softly, slowly, so gently it hurt, lips sliding slowly as Arthur titled his head and deepened it, warmly, as Alfred began to move in slow thrusts. Arthur gasped against Alfred’s lips and let out a shuddering breath as Alfred pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against Arthur’s, staring deeply into his eyes as his sweat beaded across his skin, panting, clutching Arthur’s hands desperately, as though Arthur would disappear if he didn’t, as though he wasn’t clasping Alfred’s hair with the very same desperation.

Arthur grit his teeth and groaned as one of Alfred’s hands moved from his hip to his stomach, across the muscles of his abdomen, then to his cock, and Arthur moaned, loudly, the sound catching on a gasp, as he stared with a certain dedication and unspoken promise into Alfred’s eyes as Alfred moved, slowly. Arthur’s fingers clung to Alfred’s hair, as though he wanted nothing more than to collapse in Alfred’s arms and fall, deeper and deeper into Alfred and only Alfred-

“Arthur,” Alfred breathed, hot and heavily over Arthur’s parted lips.

Arthur bowed his back and came, head jerking back and falling against the mattress, baring his neck as he shuddered, trembling, as he heard Alfred groaned loudly and bite into the skin, cheeks flushed dark and eyes tightly shut as Arthur observed him calmly.

Alfred exhaled a long breath and pulled out, lying carefully close to Arthur, leaving as little space between them as possible. Arthur rested his head against Alfred’s shoulder and chest, feeling it heave quickly, as Alfred wrapped an arm around his side and held him.

Their fingers relaxed against each other.

They held on.

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash.
> 
> Point out any mistakes its early in the morning and i'm stressed and this is just stress relief porn tbh


End file.
